


Smoke and Mirrors

by UnrequitedAlice



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Fluff and Angst, Grinding, M/M, Mirrors, Smoking, Smut, Windows - Freeform, Worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:19:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5029900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrequitedAlice/pseuds/UnrequitedAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's been trying to get Louis to come out of his room for ages with no progress. He needs to be more social. For his health, of course. Not to mention Harry needs someone to talk to other than their cat. He might go crazy if Louis doesn't start talking to him because he honestly thinks about Louis and what he's doing more than necessary or healthy. Point being: he thinks about his roommate nearly ever second of the day and that's way too much Lou for one person to handle.</p><p>or</p><p>Louis stays in his room far too much and Harry can't seem to stop thinking about him, to the point where it nearly drives him crazy and he decides to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Smoke

Harry has been lonely. He shouldn't be due to the fact that he does have a roommate, but he is. In fact, Harry feels even more alone with a roommate - who's home more than he is -, than he did when he was living at Ed's and Ed was never home.

But he guesses that's Louis for you. He's always in his room, always. Even when they have company over. The only time Harry can really remember Louis coming out of his room was when his mum and sisters came to visit last month. Otherwise, Louis has stayed in his room unless he needed food or had to leave their house. It makes Harry feel like he still lives alone.

Harry's not even sure Louis knows where they keep their hand towels. Which is a shame, really, because they live in such a lovely home. Nearly everything in the large building is white - besides the navy and gold accents. It's wonderful and it's as much Louis's as it is Harry's. It's too bad Louis doesn't see it that way.

He's been trying to get Louis to come out of his room for ages with no progress. He needs to be more social. For his health, of course. Not to mention Harry needs someone to talk to other than their cat. He might go crazy if Louis doesn't start talking to him because he honestly thinks about Louis and what he's doing more than necessary or healthy. He thinks about Louis when he's cooking, wondering if they'll eat together or not. When he's showering and Louis is still asleep, contemplating whether Louis is having good or bad dreams and what he would do to comfort him for the bad ones. When he's out with Ed, considering that Lou might be out and about but never knowing for sure. Point being: he thinks about his roommate nearly ever second of the day and that's way too much Lou for one person to handle.

***

As Harry is dicing tomatoes for a late lunch on a normal Thursday, he nearly cuts his finger and laughs, of all things. He thinks it's funny because it wouldn't have looked any different than the red of the really ripe tomatoes and that, for some reason, makes him come to the conclusion that his fingers could double as tomatoes.

He's still chuckling about it after he's finished making salsa and cucumber sandwiches. He quickly fixes a ham sandwich for Louis and grabs a beer before he walks upstairs to his room.

He knocks twice without any answer besides Louis's groans coming from the other side of the door. Harry knocks louder this time and Louis groans again.

Harry looks between the sandwich and the beer in his hand and sighs. Why does Lou always have to sleep well into the afternoon? He thought grown men knew how to wake up at a decent hour. And on a Thursday at that! It's the middle of the week, he should be doing something productive. It really is not healthy to be this inactive and lazy all the time.

"Lou, I swear if you're still asleep by the time I get back with your tea, I'm going to dump it on you." Harry huffs as he walks back down the stairs.

Why does he always take care of that boy? He shouldn't do half of the things he does for him. Hell, with how much Harry caters to him, he might as well be wiping his ass while he's at it. Maybe Harry is too much of a pushover. No, he's just motherly and he cares too much. So he has to take care of his baby.

He puts the beer back in the refrigerator and starts to make tea. He wasn't kidding when he said he would dump in on Louis. He's so hard to wake up sometimes that he needs the extra push to get motivated. Lazy and stubborn, what a great combination.

When the kettle whistles, he takes it off the burner and pours the hot water over the tea bags in the two mugs he's placed on the counter. Speaking of mugs, Harry wonders how many dishes Louis still has piling up in his room. When was the last time he brought them down?

He sighs and walks back up the stairs with Louis's tea and sandwich. When he knocks on the door, he hears a loud thump and a moment later, Louis is opening the barrier between them.

"Thanks," Louis mumbles groggily as he takes the items and begins to close the door again without even looking Harry in the eye.

Harry wedges his foot in the door and pushes it open, much to Louis's displeasure. He glares up at Harry.

"What?" he says snappily. "Do you need me for something?"

"I just wanted to talk to you." Harry receives only a blank stare. "You know, ask what's going on with you and what you're thinking and what you do in here all day?" Harry gestures to the bedroom as he looks around.

"Nothing, nothing, and wanking. Is that all? Can I close my door now?"

Harry sighs and moves out of the way, but not before getting a whiff of the stench in the bedroom. "Jesus, Lou! Do you even let Mrs. Jones in here to clean?"

Louis just ignores him and continues to close the door.

***

An hour and a half passes and Harry is becoming increasingly pissed off. Louis never comes out of his damn room! They hardly even talk to each other anymore. He's sick of it.

Louis should be more grateful. If it hadn't been for Harry offering to let him move in after Eleanor and he broke up, Louis would've had to deal with the media and drama of the situation alone. Not to mention find a house and all that. But no, Harry generously opened his doors to his best mate and now the jerk won't even talk to him! He won't even come down for tea in the mornings!

Who in the hell stays up every night until some ungodly hour then sleeps all through the damn day? It's not healthy. Humans aren't nocturnal for a reason!

Harry wishes they weren't celebrities with well paid careers so he could tell his lazy roommate to get a job and pay some bills. Or even to get a fucking life in general. He can't say those things, however, because Louis has been paying half of every bill Harry receives. They don't think about that most of the time anyway. Money is nothing to them.

The laziness and sleep patterns aren't even what bother Harry the most. It's the fact that he doesn't have much of a social life anymore. And going out with Zayn every once in a blue moon is not what Harry would define as good social health. Louis used to go out with friends all the time. He went out with that bitch Eleanor too, even if it was just for stupid walks to Starbucks and back to their flat.

Harry decides he's not going to put up with this for another day as he sits on his white couch and taps his fingers on the armrest. He's tired of making his own life a living hell because it revolves around Louis and his well-being. He's going to do something about it.

Hell, he considers taking a bloody sledge hammer to Louis's door so he no longer has privacy. Or kicking him out of his room completely by moving everything he owns into the living room and gluing it to the floor. That would show him how pissed Harry is. How he's suffered through a year of an aching heart because he sees his best friend suffer through sadness, bringing everyone - especially Harry - down with him.

Harry abruptly stands from the couch. His fists clench and relax at his sides as if he had a stress ball in each hand. He thinks he needs a stress ball right about now. He's afraid he might do something he regrets amid arguing with Lou - like hitting him. He doesn't want to hurt him - even if he is the biggest pain in the arse to have ever walked the face of this planet.

His pace slows as he reaches the third-to-last stair at the top of the metal staircase. He knows he should slow down and gather his thoughts. Because he doesn't want to lose his temper. And also because Louis has always been better at arguing with his smart ass remarks that just crawl under your skin, and make you forget what you were going to retaliate with in the first place. After years of being subjected to arguments with the sassy boy, he knows to organize his cards before he lays the first one down on the table.

He stands in front of the white door to Louis's room, listening to the soft hum of the music Louis likes to play, and raises his fist to knock. But the door swings open before he can touch it and out walks a squeaky-clean Louis Tomlinson in a loose tank top that nearly hangs low enough to show his nipples - not that Harry is looking or anything - and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, topped of with those fucking Vans and that fucking snapback.

"What do you want?" Louis asks calmly as he walks out the door and closes it behind him.

Harry is in a slight state of shock and almost doesn't say anything until Louis starts to walk away, giving him a weird look and shaking his head in confusion. Harry grabs Louis's arm and turns him around before he can get to the staircase.

By now, Harry has calmed himself down and speaks lowly and quietly like he usually does. "I, uh, needed to talk to you."

"What about?" the older boy inquires. Then, "You know what, walk with me and talk."

"You know I can't multitask very well."

"Then spit it out, Styles. I haven't got all day." Louis fidgets with the hem of his tank top, rubbing it between the index finger and thumb of his left hand. His other hand is tucked in the pocket of his sweats. He leans back against the wall coolly and sighs.

Harry takes another moment to re-gather his thoughts because this boy's outfit today looks killer on him and just the way he's standing against the wall looks like a scene from a Hollywood movie. A cliché one where the innocent schoolgirl is seeing the bad skater boy for the first time and can't take her eyes off of him. Harry is that innocent schoolgirl who was having a conversation with her new BFF and suddenly doesn't remember how to form coherent sentences.

"Harry, if you're not going to talk, you're wasting my time. I have shit to do. So if you don't mind." Louis sounds exasperated as he pushes off the wall and starts toward the flight of stairs again.

Harry is wasting this boy's time all of a sudden? He has better things to do? Is Louis fucking kidding?

"Are you serious right now?" Harry says, suddenly being knocked out of his incoherence. Now he's back to not being able to hold his anger back. He's also resumed clenching his fists and digging his nails into his palms as a way to ground himself.

"Hm? Yes, I am. I have errands to run today," Louis mentions over his shoulder.

"You've got to be bloody joking."

Louis stops walking and turns around again. "I just said I'm not. Did I stutter? I have things to do, people to see. So if you would kindly not beat around the bush with whatever it is you're trying to say so I can be on my way, that'd be great." He speaks with a sarcastically wide smile that irks Harry even more.

"Fine, I'll get it over with then. You're a fucking arsehole," Harry begins. The curse words catch Louis off guard. Harry doesn't say things like that unless he's really angry. "You're always locked up in that damn room of yours and I never even get to see you. You've made me worry like crazy every day for the past year."

Louis cuts him off with a scoff and, "Worry? Nobody worries about me. 'm not important."

"Fuck you if you think I don't worry about you. I worry about what you're eating, how much you're eating! Jesus Christ! How could I not with the amount of weight you've been losing. I can see your bones, Lou! That's not healthy! That's not the only thing I worry about, either. I worry about where you go when you run off without saying a word, what you do all day in your room, your emotional stability, and your fucking sleeping patterns! What the hell kind of friend are you for making me worry so god damned much?"

Louis sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Harry, mate, I'm not in the mood to have this conversation at the moment. Let's just talk about this later."

Harry reaches Louis in three strides, before the boy can reach the first stair, and pushes him into the wall. He doesn't want him to go anywhere. "We're talking about this now. I'm fucking pissed," Harry admits through gritted teeth.

Louis is shocked, not from the impact of his back colliding with the wall - that was gentle, of course, because even if Harry is seeing red, he can't hurt Louis - but because of the close proximity between he and Harry. Harry is so close to Louis that he almost has to cross his eyes to look at him.

Harry lets his head fall, still angry, and pushes away from the wall. He paces slowly in front of the metal balcony with his hands on his hips. "What's bothering me so much right now is that you still won't change after I attempt to have this conversation with you. You'll just go do whatever it is you have to do and come back like this never h-" Harry pauses when his eyes land back on Louis - who now has both hands out of his pockets.

"What the hell is that, Louis?" Harry asks, pointing to the outline of the object in the boy's pocket.

Louis looks down and realizes a second too late the mistake he's made. In an instant, Harry is back on him, pinning him to the wall with his chest, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of Louis's head. He brings a hand up and Louis thinks Harry might hit him. He knows Harry slaps hard, so he braces himself and turns his face away as much as he can. He hears - and feels - Harry punch the wall full force. There's got to be a hole the size of Louis' head where Harry hit it.

"You promised, Lou," Harry says weakly. For a second Louis thinks he might cry with how feeble his voice sounds. But he knows Harry is sad and angry, so he won't cry anytime soon.

He rests his head on Lou's shoulder and sighs. He shakes his head and reaches in the boy's pocket, pulling out two objects and stepping back to look him in the eye. "Is this what makes you happy? Do you enjoy slowly killing yourself? Breathing in toxins and letting them destroy you from the inside out? Is this why you were so adamant about leaving? You had to go fucking smoke?"

Louis doesn't even try to deny that they're his. He could easily say Zayn left them in his car and he was on his way to take them back to him, but he can't bring himself to lie. Harry would see right though it anyway and a lie would only hurt him more. Besides, it's not like Zayn isn't a multi-millionaire and can't just go buy another pack.

Harry pulls a cigarette out of the box and holds it up to Louis's mouth. "Well go on then. I want to see you do it. I want to watch you breaking your fucking promise."

Louis shakes his head slightly. Harry punches the wall again, still hard, but not quite hard enough to leave another hole, and breathes in deeply. Harry is insistent and presses it to his lips.

"Harry, we're inside. Shouldn't we at least-" Louis is cut off by the force of Harry pinning him to the wall again, this time with his hand on his shoulder. The cigarette nearly falls from his lips.

Harry throws the pack behind him on the ground and takes the lighter to light the cigarette between Louis's lips. If he was just pissed before, now he's pissed and disappointed. Not a good combination.

Harry watches Louis intently with little-to-no expression as he takes a drag and exhales the poisonous smoke. He continues to watch until a quarter of the cigarette is gone.

Normally smoking would calm Louis's nerves, but he's anything but calm right now. He's shaking and freaking out because of how Harry is looking at him. This look, this blank stare is something Louis hates. It's one of his least favorite things that Harry does because he can never tell what he's thinking at times like these. He can usually read Harry so well, but not now. Harry's always a clean freak and now he's forcing Louis to smoke in the house! Lou doesn't know what to think.

He watches Harry take in a breath of the smoke surrounding him and lower his head back to Louis's shoulder. "Do you feel better?" he asks in a lower voice than usual.

Louis squirms beneath him and tries to move away, but Harry presses a knee between his legs so he can't go anywhere. At this point, Louis is anything but okay or 'better.'

It's no secret that Harry is extremely attractive. It is, however, a secret to most that Louis thinks so. He and Harry had a thing - purely experimental - during the X-Factor. Harry told him he was bisexual and Louis said he'd never been with a guy. They swore to not talk about it after, but right now that's all Louis can think about. Harry caressing his skin, leaving sweet love bites all over his thighs, belly, chest, and neck. The way Harry's body felt so nice, pressed flush against his. Or the way Harry made him so verbal during sex even though he had to be quiet as to not wake anyone else in the house. Harry has made him crazy since that day. Even more so now with Harry pinning him like this with his thigh pressed against Louis' cock. He's sure Harry can feel him getting hard just from the things he's thinking about Harry doing to him.

Harry does notice, and he uses it to his advantage in order to get his point across. "Does smoking make you feel good?" Harry growls as he turns so his face is in the crook of Lou's neck. He bites Louis's pulse point hard enough to leave a mark. Louis gasps.

The pain makes him hit his head against the wall, nearly drop his cigarette on their fluffy white carpet, - that gets thoroughly cleaned every other week because of an OCD Harry Styles - and whimper like a sad puppy. Harry would kill him if he burned a black stain into the carpet so he digs his fingertips into Harry's hip and holds onto his cigarette as Harry moves down to his collar bone and nibbles lightly before sucking on it sweetly. As Harry moves back, he blows on the mark that's slowly gaining color and Louis shivers.

Louis had not anticipated an outcome like this from their previous argument, and, honestly, neither did Harry. But Harry guesses his frustration comes out in random ways sometimes as he goes to make another mark. This time, Louis moans which encourages Harry to push his thigh forward and grind on him to the slow beat of the quiet music coming from inside Louis' room.

"How good do those really make you feel? Hm?" Harry mumbles against his skin just before he licks a stripe from Lou's collar bone, up to his jaw. He gently bites Louis's earlobe and whispers, "Tell me." But all Louis can manage to do is moan and whimper, completely surrendered to Harry in every way possible. Harry presses his body forward into Louis' again, continuing to grind slowly.

Harry pulls the cigarette from Louis's mouth and takes the last drag, breathing in deeply and blowing the smoke out over Louis's face. Louis has trouble maintaining any train of thought with the sight of Harry smoking in front of him. He's never seen anything sexier.

Harry puts out the butt of it on his shoe and tosses it in the trash in the bathroom nearby. He returns to the boy against the wall, glances at the various marks on his neck and admires the mess he's made.

"So now, Lou, do you have a minute?" he asks very calmly with a hint of a smile. Louis knows Harry isn't really calm. He knows Harry is turned on as well, it's apparent through his tight, black skinny's. "I'd really like to talk to you downstairs. If you don't mind, of course. But I don't want to interrupt anything you have to do."


	2. Mirrors

Harry sighs as he sits down in the couch. He rests his elbows on his knees and his face in his palms, rubbing his eyes out of tiredness and stress. It hasn’t even been thirty seconds since he sat down, but he’s starting to doubt Louis is even going to come down.

Louis doesn’t take commands, Harry knows that. The way Harry told Louis to come down wasn’t in the form of a command, but Louis never listens anyway. He won’t come down. Harry knows he won’t.

He hopes Lou will. But after another forty-five seconds passes, Harry has given up hope.

Harry is about to scream and throw his pretty glass coffee table across the room and shatter his beautiful mirror wall - that he had put up instead of a television. Come to think of it, maybe the lack of television is why Louis stays in his room all the time. When Harry found out his best friend was moving in, he had everything in the guest room changed to accommodate Lou’s needs. Now he wishes he hadn’t as he stands to go to the kitchen with his head down.

He's surprised when he bumps into something - or, rather, someone. Someone whom he expected to be pouting upstairs in his room. Someone whom he didn't expect to forcefully push him back down on the couch and climb onto his lap. Louis straddles his legs and grabs his face to kiss him, causing Harry to gasp and grab onto Louis' small body with his rather large hands.

Even if he had anticipated a kiss, he hadn't remembered how well their lips slotted together. The soft movement of lips on his own sends shivers down his spine. Harry begins to remember the days following the formation of the band. When he and Louis felt like they'd known one another ages before they met and the time Louis asked what it was like to be with a guy. At the time, Harry was a bit shy, but not when Louis asked that particular question. All he could think about was how much he would love to be the one to show him. He wanted to, and he did.

Harry had said, "Do you really want to know?" while looking deep into the seas of blue-green that are Louis' eyes, genuinely caring about consent even then. Louis nodded, all wide eyes and innocence. Harry couldn't hold back, his fantasies coming to life. Every night of frustration finally coming to an end.

He'd slowly walked to Louis until Louis was pressed against a wall. Harry kissed him gently at first, to not scare him away. Then harder, more passionately. It was a dream-come-true for him, having had quite a few nights spent thinking of this boy but never having the real thing.

After that, they promised to keep it between the two of them and not to talk about it because it scared Louis to no end when he imagined the ridicule he would receive for it. Harry was understanding and never brought up that night or reignited those feelings until today. He knew what it was like to have people look at you differently. He didn’t want to put the pressure of coming out on Louis.

Louis' tongue slides out and grazes smoothly over Harry's bottom lip. Harry parts his lips to let Louis' taste the inside of his mouth. As the kiss becomes more tongue-heavy, he tries to savor the orange flavor of the toothpaste in Louis' mouth, afraid he might be dreaming. After all, this is something he’s wanted for a long time now. What is the likelyhood of it being real?

He immediately forgets about all of that when he feels Louis tug on his hair, close to the base of his neck. His mouth falls open as his head falls back. Louis takes his moans as encouragement and does it again, slightly harder. Harry grinds his hips up, searching for friction. Louis attaches his lips to Harry’s neck, sucking marks and biting over them.

Harry's hands roam freely on his friend's body, not wanting to miss this opportunity, feeling every curve there is and remembering what it was like to touch them without clothes. With that thought, he runs his hands under Louis' tank top and slides only the tips of his fingers under the waistband of his sweats, just to be able to hold his hips.

Louis, who has resumed kissing Harry’s puffy, red lips, shifts his hips forward and presses himself into Harry, both of them very aroused. Harry's grip tightens and he uses his hands to push Louis' hips away and pull them back so that they rub together. He continues to move the smaller boy’s hips for him and takes pleasure in the noises that escape Louis' mouth.

Their kiss has turned into small puffs of breath ghosting along each other’s lips accompanied by small moans and hums. Harry stops his movements and takes a hand away from Louis’ hip. Louis opens his eyes and stares into Harry’s with slight confusion as to why he’s stopped. That is, until Harry’s hand finds its way to the front of his pants, rubbing him through the material. The smaller boy’s head falls back as he rocks into Harry’s hand.

"How badly do you want it, doll?" Harry asks as he trails a hand down Louis' chest and down to his sweatpants. Louis makes a small noise when Harry pulls at the waistband, only slipping his fingers under it.

It's been so long since he's been touched by anybody else, let alone a man with a deep, rough, sexy voice and strong hands. And right now all he wants is for those hands to touch him under his clothes, all over. He wants Harry to touch him so bad, but he can't tell him that. It's not in his nature to beg. It's not in his nature to take orders either, but when Harry demands an answer a moment later and shoves his hand under the waistband of his sweats, he's a mess. Begging Harry to move his hand and just get him off, because god knows he needs it.

Harry pushes the sweatpants down so that Louis' cock and ass are out and starts to pump him slowly. While Louis is caught up in his little moment of bliss, Harry holds his fingers up to Louis' mouth. Louis is slightly confused until Harry says, "Open up, love."

The smaller boy lets Harry shove his fingers in his mouth and begins to suck on them. Harry sees just how sinful this boy's mouth is and regrets having to pull his fingers out after they're slick. Much too soon in his opinion.

Harry continues to pump Louis' cock, using the bits of precome as a lubricant on it. At the same time, he reaches around to Louis' bum and rubs his wet fingers over his hole. Louis jumps a little in surprise and gasps.

"Is this alright, love?" Harry asks. Louis nods after remembering his first time and how much he enjoyed it. Harry kisses him and takes his hand away from his front to hold Louis' backside. He massages over Louis' hole and his bum and continues to kiss him until he's relaxed enough to let Harry's fingertip inside. He slowly moves it in and out, and soon the older boy is moving as well, ready for another finger. The process continues until Harry is up to three fingers and their kiss is becoming sloppy with how heavily Louis is breathing.

Harry and Louis break away from their kiss for a moment. And they realize the light in the room is becoming dim and bright again, resulting from the clouds outside blocking the sun. Louis glances over to their wall of windows and his eyes get wide.

"H-Harry, we should go to your room," he says, placing a hand on the younger boy's chest.

Just then, Harry twists his fingers and hit's Louis' prostate dead-on, making him moan and bounce to get Harry to hit the same spot again.

"I quite like it right here on the couch," he says calmly. "I want the world to see how you look all fucked-out like this, moaning over my fingers, and bouncing on them desperately. You look fucking gorgeous." He hits Louis' spot again, earning another high-pitched moan.

Louis wants something more substantial inside him. He wants Harry inside him. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets his head fall to Harry's chest as he fights back his urge to beg.

"H-Haz, your- ah- can you-" He gasps when he's suddenly lying on the couch with Harry over him and an empty hole.

"Can I what, doll?"

"Jesus Christ, fuck me, please," he says exasperatedly.

Harry grins and kisses him sweetly, "Anything for you."

It's a bit overdue for them to be taking their shirts off, but they don't mind. In fact, Louis has to take a moment to stare at Harry in all of his beauty. He traces the taller boy's tattoos gently, feeling the muscles underneath and wishing Harry wasn't smirking at him like that.

Harry pulls Louis' pants off and then takes off his own, surprising Louis once again with how lovely his body is. He definitely has benefited from going to the gym frequently, Louis thinks. However, he still looks soft and fluffy, especially around his hips and belly and that makes Louis want to feel his pale skin even more.

"You're so beautiful, Haz." The thought just slips out and he almost regrets saying it until Harry kisses him again, longer this time. They work together to get Louis' sweats off without breaking their kiss. When they're off, Louis wraps his legs around Harry's hips and pulls him down, silently telling Harry to get on with it.

Harry lines himself up with Louis' entrance and slowly pushes himself in, going slower than he wants to as to not hurt his best friend. Once he's hips-to-ass, he doesn't move. Louis' face is scrunched in pain and the last thing Harry wants to do is hurt him more.

"Is it okay, darling?" Harry asks as he brushes Louis' fringe back and traces his fingers down his cheek and under his chin. He waits until Louis' face is relaxed before moving even the slightest. Louis pulls him down into a kiss, letting him know it’s alright.

It’s slow for a minute. It’s slow until Louis begins to get anxious.

“What, doll?” Harry asks.

“Faster.”

“I’m sorry, love. I don’t think I heard you?”

“F-faster!” Louis says louder.

“Just a little louder. I want the neighbors to hear you down the road.”

“F-faster Harry, please!” Louis all but screams.

Harry braces himself with a hand on Louis’ hip and the other next to his head on the couch cushion. Lou’s already messy hair is sticking up randomly from where his fingers have run through it accompanied by strands that are stuck to his forehead with a small amount of sweat.

He wishes Louis could see how amazingly hot he looks right now. As vain as he is, Harry knows Louis would love it. Seeing them together like this might send him over the edge.  
“Lou.” He opens his eyes. “Look.”

Harry gestures to the wall of mirrors to their left. Louis glances and moans louder than before. “Keep looking. Watch. Watch us. You.”

Harry reaches for Louis’ dick and takes it in his hand. He pumps him quickly, in time with his thrusts. Louis reaches his orgasm first, staring at their intertwined bodies. The tightness from Louis’ orgasm and his noises send Harry over too with a dropped jaw and closed eyes.

Harry lays on Louis’ chest and sighs. “Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> so basically, this is my first smut thingy on here. actually, it's my first anything on here but  
> i know there isn't actually anything really bad here, but the next chapter will have actual smut  
> leave comments and such  
> all the love x.


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